


Breaking Down

by Very_Anxious_Bean



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders Are Cousins, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Panic Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Swears, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is So Done, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Mess, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Background Relationships, Blood, Boys in Chains, Breaking and Entering, Broken Bones, Bruises, Cell Phones, Chains, Coffee, Collars, Cousins, Gen, Human, Human Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Human Morality | Patton Sanders, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Human Sleep | Remy Sanders, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Injury, Knives, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medicine, Mild Blood, Minor Character(s), Minor Injuries, No Sex, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Oh My God, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Platonic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Platonic Relationships, Rain, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, Tags May Change, Therapist Dr. Emile Picani, There is a character with a missing hand, Trapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Very_Anxious_Bean/pseuds/Very_Anxious_Bean
Summary: Virgil's car breaks down in front of an abandoned-looking house in the woods because he wanted to spite his cousin. He reacts rationally and breaks into the house.Virgil doesn't know why he wanted to go in the woods other than to spite his cousin but he regrets it later.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Everyone, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Other(s), Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 25
Kudos: 48





	1. Ch 1

**Author's Note:**

> **TW: Blood is implied in this chapter and breaking bones. It is not graphic.**
> 
> I have motivation rn! Yay :D 
> 
> Anyway, if I miss anything please let me know, especially in future chapters that I hopefully will post lol.

Virgil didn't know what would be better; walking to the house in front of him that was surrounded by chain-link fences or waltzing through the dark woods and hope he finds someone before hypothermia gets to him.

Virgil glanced into the shadows lurking between trees from his car window and decided that he would rather give the people who stuck "trespassers will be prosecuted" signs on the fence a chance. 

Or maybe that wasn't a good idea and he should risk dying of the freezing temperature instead of facing people. 

Virgil huffed and leaned back, his head thumping against the headrest. Uncrossing his arms, he got his phone from his hoodie pocket. 

No service. 

He groaned loudly, letting his phone drop onto the passenger seat. 

Virgil had been on the phone with his cousin as he drove, complaining about how heavy the rain was getting.

"Virgil,” Janus had said, “it would be safer to not go through the woods. Just stick to the road, dumbass.”

“Yeah, great idea with this weather. Want me to slip and get into a car crash?” Virgil glanced at the rain thundering against his car. “Pretty sure it’ll start to hail soon, too. I’m going through the woods- it won’t take much longer.”

"You're doing this just to spite me, you pest."

Virgil drove onto a dirt road- muddy now with all the rain- with a grin. "Of course not."

Virgil could practically hear Janus scowling. "You idiot- what happened to the arson-loving cousin I had? You-"

Virgil had ignored what Janus said for the rest of the call. 

Now Virgil wished he paid attention because it was probably insults and sarcasm with some clever things to do in case he broke down.

Which he did. 

Virgil made a mental note to actually pay attention to Janus sometimes as he grudgingly opened his car door.

He pulled his hood up as he walked away from his car, locking it twice and nearly tripping over a sign that was smudged but Virgil could read, "...will kill you".

"Great," Virgil said dryly. "Perfect." He kicked the sign away from him and continued walking towards the chain-link fence. "You're getting the signs- you are _literally getting the signs_ and what are you doing?"

Virgil hooked his fingers into the spaced between chain link, squinting through the heavy rain. "You're breaking into the fucking place. Like an idiot."

Climbing the fence and then falling to the ground when he was halfway down the other side was easier than Virgil thought it would be.

He had luckily fallen into the mud rather than a pile of broken signs with sharp points, so he counted that to be a blessing.

Trying to wipe some mud off his hoodie, he stumbled on another thing on the ground and landed on his hand awkwardly. He bit the inside of his cheek when something cracked in his wrist, blood coating his tongue and he blinked away tears. 

Virgil glared at a small bag at his feet, kicking it in irritation. A strap was wrapped around his other foot, making the bag fly through the air when he brought his foot closer.

The bag was white with red designs, some red splatters on the muddy white. A small string was looped around a golden crown-shaped button was keeping the flap shut. The red splatters were trailing down the bag with the rain dripping down it. 

Virgil narrowed his eyes at it and tried to kick off the strap that was stubbornly tangled around his sneaker. He sighed when the gold crown button got stuck on a shoelace.

The bag probably belonged to a rich kid.

Virgil stood up, untangling his foot from the bag strap and continued walking to the house. 

He reached a back door and tried to think of an excuse he could say to anyone who was living here.

Virgil turned the doorknob. 

"I broke down," he muttered to himself, "and breaking in through your back door is a completely normal thing to do in this situation."

The hallway he stepped in was dark with no light turned on.

Virgil stepped inside.

Breaking into someone's house was a reasonable reaction to breaking down in front of it because it looked abandoned with its peeling paint and cobwebs.

Completely reasonable.

Virgil left the door open.

Virgil reached into his hoodie pocket, heart racing when he couldn't feel anything in it. He stood in the doorway, glaring into the dark hallway before quickly backtracking outside and returning to the chain-link fence.

Virgil stared at his car through the holes in the fence.

"Fuck."

Virgil looked at his wrist, the skin irritated and swollen.

He sighed, resting his head against the fence. " _Fuck_."

Grumbling the whole way back to the house, he stepped into the dark hallway again. Standing there until his eyes adjusted to the dark, he started walking, leaving the door open.

It didn't stay open.

The door slammed shut, making Virgil jump and spin around with tense muscles. He glared at the door, the little light he had gone. 

"Bitch," he said to the door. He turned and started walking again, lightly trailing the wall with his fingertips. 

Virgil paused when he touched cold metal. He reached with both hands, finding it was a round doorknob. 

He turned it and opened the door.

Virgil regretted stepping through as soon as he tumbled down a flight of stairs, his foot accidentally kicking the door shut. 

Virgil felt his wrist snap again when he crashed against concrete.


	2. Ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW: There are knives but they aren't a main part of the story.**

Virgil decided he could be upset about being shut in a dark room in wet clothes that only made him colder than he already was.

He shrugged off his hoodie, being careful with his injured wrist, and tied it around his waist. He got up, cradling his injured wrist to his chest, and shuffled around until he found the stairs and carefully made his way up the stairs. He tried to open the door as soon as he reached it. 

The handle no longer turned. 

"What-?" Virgil scowled at the handled and tried to turn it faster as if he had a TV controller.

Turning the handle quickly didn't work.

"What the fuck. What the _fuck_. What the actual-" Virgil scoffed and let go of the handle. 

He began to think doors had a grudge against him. 

Virgil took a shaky breath and descended the stairs slowly as he felt along the wall. He walked around the room carefully, still trailing his hand along the wall and occasionally lifting his hand in there for a string that might connect to a hanging lightbulb. 

Virgil flinched when his hand bumped into a cold handle. He turned it, trying to push it open before he realized the door had to be pulled. 

He carefully opened the door, letting it open into another room. Virgil stepped inside and dragged his foot in front of him, feeling along the floor until he was sure there was no staircase to shatter the remains of his wrist. 

Virgil reached out, gasping when he accidentally pushed something over. He cringed as glass shattered on the floor. 

Virgil held his breath when he heard a muffled noise. He let himself relax after ten minutes of silence. 

He felt the wall again, surprised when his hand immediately landed on a light switch. He flicked it and let the lights turn on. 

The lights were bright, making Virgil duck his eyes under his good arm and curse under his breath. He squinted into the lit room when his eyes adjusted. 

Piles of boxes were scattered in the room, some of them towering over Virgil but most at his hips. There were three boxes on their sides on the floor, shards of glass pouring out of two of them. 

Virgil hated how many blind spots there were, some dark corners on the other end of the room made his anxiety skyrocket. Making sure the door was wide open, tempted to shove his shoe by the door as a stopper but deciding not to, he started walking past the wood and cardboard. 

He found a door behind a small stack of boxes. A small stain was on the floor, most of it hidden by the cardboard, but Virgil decided to shove the boxes out of his way anyway. 

Virgil accidentally knocked over the top box and he watched it fall blankly as he regretted his life decisions. He jumped away from the pile of knives clashing together as they slid out of the box. 

Another muffled noise, but it was louder this time. 

Virgil stared at the door near him. Glancing at the floor and deeming it clean enough, he got on the floor and tried to look under the door. 

Virgil couldn’t see anything. 

He scooted closer, squinting through the small crack between the floor and door. 

Virgil got up after still being unable to see anything on the other side. 

The room was as dark as his soul- or maybe Remus’. Janus would have a presentation on whose soul is darker and Remus might have won by five points. 

Virgil wishes he hadn’t left his phone in the car.

The doorknob had a lock on the outside, light reflecting off it as if it were something holy. 

The light was also reflecting off of the knives that had fallen on the floor. 

Virgil grabbed a knife. 

He turned the lock and nearly slammed the door shut as soon as he saw what was in the other room.


	3. Ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW: Mild (dried) blood, knives, a missing hand.**

Virgil couldn’t decide between running as fast as he could in the opposite direction or trying to stab the figure that was crouched three feet away from him. 

The figure looked up, making eye contact with Virgil. He could see it was a man when he shifted, the light shining into what Virgil thought was a closet. The crouched man shifted again. 

The small space between them barely gave Virgil the time to jump back as the man moved forward. He tripped into some boxes and made them crash to the floor. Glass and other objects shattered and clattered together, the noise almost louder than Virgil’s screech as he fell to the floor. 

The man was staring at Virgil with wide eyes. Dried blood was smeared on his face and neck, purple bruises surrounding a collar that was tight around a thin throat. 

“What the fuck?” Virgil gasped, scrambling away from the man. “ _What the fuck_? Oh my god, oh my god, holy shit-” He shakily held out the knife towards the man, breathing shallowly as he choked on the urge to run. 

Virgil paused when he saw light reflecting off of metal past the man’s collar, leading into the closet. It was a strain line of chains, connected to the man who had stopped in one spot with a frantic look. 

“Oh, what the hell,” Virgil wheezed out. His grip tightened on the knife when the man took a step back, a hand raised to his throat with an uncomfortable expression. 

“Oh my god,” the man said with a rasp. “Oh my god- I- you- you have to help me, _please_.” He paused. “You-” the man coughed- “you’re not supposed to be here- you _can’t_ be here! They- they probably heard you.” 

“I- _what_?” 

“They probably heard you,” the man repeated, looking past Virgil with a tense look. 

Virgil wheezed. “What? What the fuck. _What the fuck_!” 

“You- you need to be quiet, _please_. You need to- to hide or something, get out of here! Or-” The man rambled, his words slowly becoming incomprehensible to Virgil. 

Virgil wished he stayed in his car to die of hypothermia. Or that the rain turned to hail sooner and knocked him out. 

He could feel his hands trembling more than before, his heartbeat picking up and his chest constricting. 

Virgil felt something grab his foot and drag him. He immediately swung the knife forward and kicked at whatever grabbed him. 

It turned out to be the chained man.

The man reeled back in time to narrowly avoid the knife with a gasp, landing on his ass. He had moved his arms in front of his face and Virgil-

Virgil felt his heart drop more when he saw the man had one hand. 

It explained why he was chained by his neck rather than his wrists. 

Virgil’s breath hitched as he scooted backwards. “What the fuck- what- I- what?” 

The chained man took a shaky breath. “ _Please_ ,” he said, “be quiet.” 

Virgil was very tempted to hide in a corner while covering his mouth to do exactly that. The thought of some crazy people hiding an adult with a missing hand in their basement made bile crawl up Virgil’s throat. 

“You- you need to hide or get out, or- ju- just _something_. Please, they’re- they-” The man choked on air. 

Virgil nearly let himself choke on air as well. Maybe this guy could be the friend Janus constantly lectured to him to get. 

They could bond through panic attacks. 

Sounds great. 

“This place looked abandoned,” Virgil forced out. He cringed, wondering how bad his social skills were that he couldn’t talk to someone who was clearly a captive at a clearly not abandoned house. 

“It isn’t. I swear to god, it isn’t! They- I-” the man covered his mouth and curled into himself. He breathed heavily as tears slowly traced his face. “You- you need to get out of here.” 

Virgil couldn’t get off the floor. 

“You-” The man looked up, eyes red and glossy. “Get out. Or help- help somehow, I don’t know, just- _please_.”

Virgil could feel his jaw aching from how hard he was grinding his teeth. He shivered, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Please.” 

Virgil stared at the man for a moment. He hated the shaky thing scars on the man’s throat as if he scratched at it to get the collar off, he hated the guy’s bruises, the chains, the tiny room the man had been trapped in; he hated that there was possibly- _probably_ \- a crazy person in the house Virgil decided to break into, he hated himself for ignoring the literal signs, and he hated his wrist for being made of fragile bones. 

Virgil hated everything about this. 

A loud thump echoed in the room. 

The two men stared at the door on the other side of the room, still wide open and partially hidden by boxes. 

The chained man quickly backed into the closet, throwing a desperate look at Virgil as if he could perform a miracle, and shut the door. 

Virgil scrambled to his feet, finally able to control his muscles. 

Virgil nearly stopped breathing when he saw another person in the doorway when he stood. The person smiled calmly at him before there was a quiet click and the light went out. 

Virgil began to think that the chained man didn’t throw him a “please perform a miracle” look. 

It might have been "please let there be a miracle for Virgil” look.


	4. Ch 4

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” 

Virgil glanced up from his wrist to look at the man. “Fine.” 

“Really?” The man had introduced himself as Patton a few hours earlier, Virgil remembered. 

The room Virgil had seen the chained man with had gone dark and then he woke up on a couch, two men by him. 

Virgil never remembered falling asleep; he doesn’t remember being knocked out, either. 

“I’m Patton,” the man with a grey hoodie said, “and I found you in our basement knocked out. Did you fall down the stairs, kiddo?” 

“I-”

“I thought you did,” Patton interrupted with a smile. “Sorry about that. You open the door and then _bam_! The stairs are right there. It always shocks our friends when they’re over-”

“I’m-”

“Not a friend,” the man with a black jacket said. He took a sip of what Virgil assumed was coffee.

“Remy!” Patton scolded. “Don’t be rude.” 

Virgil curled into himself slightly. “Uh-” 

“I’m not,” the man- Remy- said. 

“You are! This poor kid comes into our place in the middle of a hailstorm with a broken wrist and a fever-”

Virgil immediately felt his face with his good hand. 

It felt fine to him. 

“-and maybe even a _concussion_ -”

Virgil doesn’t remember hitting his head. 

He remembered breaking into the place- an incredibly stupid idea, Janus would be yelling at him so loud that it could challenge an opera singer. He remembered breaking his wrist twice, getting himself thrown into their basement, and the chained man that looked miserable as hell, still covered in bruises and dried blood. 

“-and all you can think about is how he isn’t someone we know.” 

“He broke into our house.” 

“And? He clearly needs help-” 

As they continued bickering with Patton repeatedly trying to back down but then jumping to Virgil’s defence when Remy said something snippy, Virgil thought jumping out of the nearby window to run away from this place sounded like a good idea. 

There was also a pair of scissors resting on a nearby coffee table that Virgil was _very_ tempted to grab. 

“That looks pretty nasty,” Patton said with a frown, eyeing Virgil’s wrist. 

Virgil tensed up. “Oh, uh- yeah, it’s, um, broken.” 

“Hm. Remy, be a dear and go fetch my things please.” 

Remy huffed, setting his coffee down and leaving the room. 

Patton sat on the arm of the couch, gently taking Virgil’s injured hand and examining it. 

Virgil wanted to scream. Or cry. 

He would fight if he had two working hands. 

Patton smiled at Virgil. “There isn’t much we can do for this except put it in a splint for now. We can’t go anywhere in this weather… Sorry, kiddo.” 

Virgil looked outside a nearby window, watching large chunks of hail smack against it. 

The window didn’t even crack. 

Patton noticed him staring. “Ah, the window? We made sure to get some stronger glass, especially with the deer around here. Always helps to know it’s hard to break through the windows.” 

There goes Virgil’s plan for chucking something at the windows and running. 

Remy came back, dumping a bag and bottle of pills into Patton’s lap. 

“Thank you, dear,” Patton said as he pulled supplies out of the bag. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist when he didn’t offer it. 

“You know,” Patton murmured, straightening out Virgil’s hand and facing the palm down, “you were out for a long time. I didn’t have any IVs to hook you up to, sorry about that.” 

“He seems fine, girl,” Remy said. 

Patton tilted his head, focusing on placing a splint board on the palm side of Virgil’s hand. He took one wrap out of his bag and started wrapping it around Virgil’s wrist. 

Virgil watched as Patton finished with the first wrap and then watched as he pulled out a different wrap, taking a minute to finished wrapping it and securing it in place. 

“That should help until we can do something better.” Patton smiled and set his bag on the floor. “Can you take some Tylenol?” 

“Uh, I’m good,” Virgil said. 

Patton stared at Virgil for a second. “Alrighty, kiddo. How about some food? I- we don’t know how long you were unconscious so… Is there anything you would prefer?” 

Virgil would prefer to get out of this house. “No.”

Patton nodded with a smile and left the room saying, “I’ll make some soup, then.” 

Virgil sat in silence for a moment, trying to decide whether to play along or let himself flip his shit and risk getting killed.

“So, what brought you here?” Remy asked, tilting his head down and looking over his sunglasses. 

Virgil eyed Remy. “... The storm.” 

“Right. Well, sorry if the signs outside scared you; they’re meant for those teenagers that love to sneak into places for YouTube or whatever. Patton and I are getting too old to deal with that now. I think we’re too old to be handling you right now, too.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be a bother so I can just go-” 

“No.” 

Virgil wanted to stop breathing. “‘No’?”

Remy hummed. “It’d be rude to leave without eating Patton’s soup. After all, he is putting in the effort to help you,” he said with a smile. “Even put your wrist in a splint.” 

“Yeah…” Virgil grit his teeth, trying to sound pleasant. “That’s nice. How long will that take again?” 

“We never know.” 

“Great.” 

Remy sipped his coffee. “What were you doing in the basement?” 

“What were you doing with that guy?” Virgil said back. 

Remy stared at him. 

Virgil hadn’t meant to say it that loud. 

Or out loud at all. 

As Remy shifted in his seat, eyes still glaring into Virgil’s soul, Virgil’s mind was repeatedly screaming without pause. 

He had many regrets. 

“You know, a lot of kids that go down there say there’s some guy. They always say that he’s beaten and bloody, sometimes they even say he’s chained,” Remy said quietly. “But Patton and I never know what they’re talking about. There’s no one down there. I’d be glad to show you.” 

Virgil scooted away from Remy. 

“Patton thinks maybe there’s a ghost that likes kids. Maybe a trapped soul that died an unfair death down in the basement. But you don’t believe that.” 

Virgil glanced at the scissors still on the coffee table. 

“Do you.”

It wasn’t a question.


	5. Ch 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, sorry y'all. No TW/CWs this time :)

Before Virgil was able to lunge for the scissors and threaten Remy, Patton appeared in the doorway with a grin and announced the soup was done. 

Remy immediately hid his eyes under his sunglasses and leaned back, taking a sip of his coffee and relaxing his shoulders. 

Virgil stared at the way Remy went from threatening to casual in one second. 

“Well, kiddo? You’ve gotta eat if you want to feel better,” Patton said. 

It took Virgil a second to realize Patton was talking to him. “Oh, shit- uh, yeah. So, um, what exactly is in the soup?” Virgil watched Remy get up from the arm of the couch.

He did not want to eat the food strangers made. Especially when one clearly wanted to kill him. 

Virgil stood, discreetly grabbing the scissors and shoving them in his hoodie’s pocket before following them into the kitchen. He kept his hands in his pockets. 

“Hm, it’s just some homemade chicken noodle soup. A classic! Got noodles, obviously,” Patton laughed, “it’s got chicken, some carrots-” 

“Really?” Virgil asked. “That’s- I’m allergic to that. Carrots.” 

He doesn’t know anybody with a carrot allergy. 

They entered the kitchen and a black pan was resting on the stove, steam rising into the air. 

“Oh, really?” Patton paused for a second, looking into his soup. “Shoot. Sorry about that, kiddo, I should’ve asked…” 

Virgil gave Patton a tight smile, watching Remy in his peripheral. “It’s alright. Hopefully, the storm will die down soon.” 

“It won’t,” Patton said. 

“... Pardon?” 

Patton glanced over his shoulder to look at Virgil. “Storms last a long time in this area. Probably won’t die down for another few days, which means you’re stuck with us for a bit.” 

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” Remy got a bowl and served himself soup with a wooden spoon. 

Virgil wishes he didn’t claim to have a carrot allergy. 

He also wishes he knew what to do. 

“You’d know not to go through the woods unless you lived in it if you did,” Remy said after a moment of silence. He gave the spoon to Patton, who stirred the soup before reaching for a kettle. “So, you’re not around here.” 

Virgil wanted to grab the pan and knock out some of Remy’s brain cells. “My cousin is. Very protective, probably is wondering where I am. Which is why I should leave soon.” 

Janus was probably giving Virgil reasons to not go into the woods on the phone call. Virgil wishes he listened for the millionth time. 

He hopes that Patton was lying about the long storms. 

“Do you have a mobile phone?” Patton asked, turning on the stove. 

“I, uh-” Virgil patted his pockets and cursed internally. “I left it in my car.” 

“Sneaking into someone’s house without a phone? That doesn’t seem smart,” Remy said. 

Virgil glared at him. 

Patton lightly smacked Remy’s leg with the wooden spoon. “Be nice. Virgil, are you sure you don’t want the soup? I promise it’s not poisoned,” he joked. 

“Carrot allergy,” Virgil muttered, still glaring at Remy. “And-”

 _Virgil_. 

“I never told you my name.” 

“Hm?” Patton stopped filling the kettle and set it on the burner. He faced Virgil with a frown. “You did, kiddo. When you woke up and we asked. Don’t you remember?” 

Virgil fidgeted with the scissors.

“I guess not,” Remy said. 

“That’s not good- if you can’t remember anything. I’ll check on you after we eat lunch, kiddo.” Patton took the kettle off the stove when it started whistling. “Want some tea?” 

“No, thanks,” Virgil said. 

“Okay. How about you make a sandwich, then. There’s bread right here-” Patton set a loaf on the counter- “and our fridge isn’t locked.” 

“Okay…” 

Patton and Remy went to a table for their lunch. 

Virgil felt his stomach do flips.

He was sure he never hit his head or gave them his name. He’d been up here many times and never got caught in a storm. 

He had only gone through the woods twice before. 

Virgil leaned on their counter, looking out a window. There was still a heavy hailstorm. 

He squinted through the window, leaning closer to it when he recognized a sign on the chainlink fence. It was around the side of the house, where Virgil’s car had broken down. 

It should be in clear sight, with its obnoxious colour and parked right in front of the chain-link fence. 

Virgil didn’t see his car.


	6. Ch 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think anything needs a TW/CW but let me know if it does!

“Do you guys know where my car is?” Virgil asked after Patton finished checking him. 

According to the man, Virgil had a mild concussion and water had been shoved into his hands since he “still had a fever”. 

Patton raised an eyebrow. “Your car? What does it look like?” 

Virgil blinked slowly. “The car that isn’t yours. Obnoxious colour, parked right next to your house?”

“Oh.” Patton stood up from his seat next to Virgil. “While you were asleep, someone took it, I think.” 

“What.” 

Patton shyly smiled. “Sorry, kiddo. We were all asleep; it was early in the morning. Remy and I didn’t get there in time.” 

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, nearly digging his nails into his scalp and pulling on the strands. “Do either of you have a phone I could use?” 

“It’s in the basement,” Remy said. 

“ _The basement_ ,” Virgil repeated slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t make you go in there, kiddo!” Patton patted Virgil’s shoulder. “There’s a ghost down there, you know.” 

“Really.”

“Yep!” Patton sat on a chair across from the couch. He leaned forward, grabbing a green ribbon from the coffee table. “People see him all the time when they break-in. You might’ve seen him but you probably don’t remember.” 

Virgil could feel Remy’s eyes on him. 

“Nope,” he said. “Don’t remember seeing him. You- do people break into your house all the time?” 

“Sorta, since the house looks old- well, we've been told it looks abandoned. We got it not too long ago for not too much but it really does need some fixing up. We- well, Remy put signs on the fence a few days ago to try to keep the kids away.”

If Virgil could, he would go back in time and smack himself when he chose to climb the fence.

“I’m sure the ghost won’t mind me making a phone call.”

“Are you sure? The kids get scared by him all the time.”

“I’m sure most of them don’t believe in ghosts and that’s why they flip their shit.” 

Patton perked up. “You believe in ghosts?” 

“Of course.” 

“How nice,” Remy said. 

Patton fondly rolled his eyes. “Remy doesn’t believe in them. But, if you want to, you can go to our basement. I’ll go with you if you want.”

“I’ll be fine,” Virgil said, setting his glass of water on the coffee table. “Where’s your basement?” 

“Should be somewhere on the left,” Patton said as he opened the door. “Be careful of the stairs this time.” 

Virgil started going down the stairs. “Sure. Thanks.” 

Patton smiled, flicking a light switch by the doorway- making Virgil flinch at the sudden light- and closed the door saying, “I’ll be with Remy, take your time!” 

Virgil glanced up the staircase at the closed door, tempted to go up and make sure it wasn’t locked this time but decided to look around until he found a phone. 

He didn’t see it. 

He did see a door that, when he grabbed the handle, felt familiar. Pulling the door open and turning on the light, he continued looking around the basement. He shut it behind him after a few minutes.

Stacks of boxes were still there, but nothing was laying on the floor and nothing was knocked over. Virgil could see the door on the other side of the room. 

He carefully walked around the piles of boxes and reached the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. 

A figure was crouched in a corner of the closet. 

Virgil knew what it was. 

“Hey.” 

The man in the corner looked up. 

“So, uh…” Virgil crouched. “They think I’m calling someone,” he said quietly. “But I haven’t seen a phone around.” 

The man frowned. “There used to be but… it’s probably not there anymore.”

“... Right.” Virgil glanced at the door. “Patton-” the chained man flinched- “... he said you’re a ghost.” 

The man scoffed. “That’d be great.” 

Virgil cracked his knuckles. “What’s your name?” 

“What’s _your_ name?” 

Virgil glared. “If I’m ever going to get out and call the police, I think I’d need your name to help you.” 

They glared at each other.

Virgil groaned. “My name is Virgil, okay? Now, what’s yours?” 

“I don’t think I should tell you.” 

Virgil hit his head against the doorframe. “Holy _shit_ , you idiot, just tell me.” 

“Why should I?”

“Why-?” Virgil leaned away from the doorway and slouched, staring at the man with wide eyes. “I’m trying to _help you_!”

They were quiet. 

“There’s nothing you can do. I bet they already took your car.”

Virgil scowled. 

“There isn’t a phone down here. The only thing you could try to do is attack them and try to get out. Those scissors won’t do shit against them if you don’t stab them somewhere that will make them bleed out quickly, though.” 

Virgil blinked. “What?”

The man rolled his eyes. “You might want to keep them from sticking out of your pocket.”

Virgil crossed his arms, scoffing. “Y’know, for someone who looks like he’s been kidnapped and beaten, you’re pretty calm now.” 

“They haven’t killed you. They like you, so you have a better chance of leaving and getting the police.”

“Right,” Virgil said, thinking about Remy. “Where do you think they put my car?”

“... The garage? I don’t know, maybe they got it towed.” 

“It’s hailing like hell out there.” 

“Won’t stop some people.”

“I guess.” Virgil got up. “I’m going back but I’ll try to figure shit out. See you around.” 

He left, closing the door quietly behind him and climbing up the stairs. 

The door wouldn’t open. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update... Sorry about that but I'm back now lol


	7. Ch 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little short. No TW/CWs for this chapter :)

"Do you even know how to pick a lock?"

"Yes,” Virgil hissed. “You just keep messing me up."

The chained man scoffed. “ _How_? I’m not even doing anything-”

“You keep _moving_!” 

He grumbled, his head moving for the umpteenth time.

“Holy shit- just keep still,” Virgil growled, grabbing his hair and forcing him into one spot. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”

Virgil could feel the chained man roll his eyes. 

They had been bickering for an hour, since Virgil had found a hairpin laying around on the dirty floor. It took the chained man a half hour to convince Virgil it wouldn't kill him to pick it up.

"You still haven't told me your name," Virgil said as he fiddled with the lock on the collar.

"Do I owe you it?"

Virgil scowled and pulled away from the man. 

“Wait, wait, wait- you bastard, hold on!”

“You know my name, I’m trying to save you from this literal hell- what the fuck else do you want?” Virgil picked at the skin by his fingernails, glaring through his bangs at the other man. 

He and the man stared at each other for a second before Virgil cursed under his breath and hunched over, resting his forehead against the grimy floor and taking even breaths. 

“I’m trying to get us both out of here, damn it.”

The chained man narrowed his eyes at Virgil before huffing and crossing his arms. “God, you don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.”

Virgil scoffed. 

“Princey.” 

“‘Princey’?” 

“ _Yes_.”

“What- what the hell kind of name is that?” Virgil sat up, squinting at the man- Princey. “That isn’t even your real name, is it?” 

“Prince is my middle name.”

“And you go by Princey?”

“... Yeah.”

“ _Princey_.”

Princey glared. “How many times are you going to say my name?” 

Virgil huffed, scooting closer to Princey. He moved his head in place. “As soon as I get over the stupidity of it. Now, hold still this time.” 

It took another hour of Virgil aggressively keeping Princey in place before the collar eventually clicked and fell off the man’s neck. 

“Well, look who’s Prince Charming,” Princey said dryly. “My hero.”

Virgil threw the hairpin at Princey’s head.

“My villain,” Princey corrected. He stood up, wincing and leaning against the doorway. “But don’t worry, plenty of people love the villain.” 

“Haha, very funny.” 

“I know I’m hilarious but that doesn’t mean you can fall for me just yet.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I could easily leave you here.”

Princey’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Calm down,” Virgil said, taking a step back. “I won’t actually do that.” 

“Oh, really?” Princey narrowed his eyes. 

Virgil pursed his lips. “Whatever,” he said. “Do you need help walking around or can you manage?” 

“I can walk just fine.” 

Virgil ignored how Princey tripped over his own feet every other step as they walked out of the room.


	8. Ch 8

Virgil had climbed the stairs for what felt the millionth time, leaving Princey at the bottom of it, just so he could kick the door. 

“Are you done abusing the door yet?” 

“No,” Virgil snapped, continuing to glare and kick at the door for ten minutes. 

He watched people in movies kick open doors all the time so maybe life would give him some good karma for once if he kept ramming his foot into the door. 

“Don’t be stupid. You’re getting nowhere with those baby kicks.”

Virgil scowled. He kicked the door harder.

Princey deadpanned at Virgil. “Are you ever going to stop and listen for once?” 

Virgil glared down at the other man. “You’ve been down here for God knows how long and you’re okay with rotting away?” 

“No, but you could at least try to think of a better way!” 

“There is no ‘better way’!” 

“Sure,” Princey scoffed, “because making loud constant noise won’t catch the attention of a psychopath, which couldn’t be worse than looking around for a few minutes. Quietly.” 

Virgil, swallowing the urge to throw his combat boots and the man, sighed and leaned against the door, sliding down to sit on the stairs. “What are your clearly fantastic ideas?”

“Uh- look… around.” 

“Fucking seriously?” 

“It isn’t a bad idea!” Princey crossed his arms with a huff. “Weren’t you listening a second ago? I already said that we should look around.”

“What are you expecting to find? A hole that leads up somewhere?” 

“Maybe a vent.” 

Virgil scoffed. “Have fun crawling in one.” 

Princey laughed dryly. “You’ll be the one crawling up there.”

“Like hell, I will.” 

Princey held out both his arms, letting Virgil blankly stare at them. 

The arms were bruised, the deep purples and blues blending in with his tanned skin, some greens and yellows barely noticeable. The cuts on his left wrist were mostly scabbed over, though some did have beads of blood and others looked like they were scarring. 

Virgil understood why he would need to be the one climbing when he remembered that Princey only had one hand. 

Picking at his lips- which wasn’t a good idea, he has no clue what germs there are in the dirty basement- Virgil descended the stairs, cursing under his breath. “Alright, fine. We’ll look around.” 

They both glanced at the stair’s door before turning their backs on it. 

Princey glanced over his shoulder a lot and flinched when Virgil opened the door to the previous room, his wheezy breathing silencing for a moment before he narrowed his eyes at Virgil. 

“Sorry,” Virgil said. 

Princey turned his head away. 

Virgil was tempted to throw his shoes at the man again but chose not to when he thought about only wearing socks in the basement. 

He wishes he brought his phone as he squinted into dark corners. 

Virgil was sure that Patton and Remy- he stopped saying Patton’s name around Princey when he picked up on his fidgeting- knew that Virgil wasn’t making a phone call. 

The door was still locked hours after he was sent into the basement. 

“Maybe we should go through the boxes,” Princey said from the other room. 

Virgil glanced up from the box he was rummaging through. He sighed when he found another pack of candles. He barely noticed when Princey stood in the doorway. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow. 

“I think this is the first time you weren’t whining in the few hours I’ve known you.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I thought I said you couldn’t fall for me just yet.”

Virgil glared at Princey through a yawn. “Piss off.” 

“You’re so cruel to me.” Princey pouted. “I found a vent I think you can fit through.”

“Great,” Virgil said dryly.

Princey had been right. The vent was big enough for Virgil to squeeze into and short enough for him to be grateful he was naturally flexible. 

“How’s it going?” Princey asked after ten minutes of Virgil wiggling around inside the vent. 

“Fucking wonderful.” 

“Great! So that means you could hurry up.”

Virgil glared at the metal in front of him, wincing when he accidentally smacked his wrist against it in an attempt to move. “Fuck you.” 

“Not interested. Too tall for my taste.” 

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Mr. Too-Short-For-Anyone.” 

“Hey-!”

“I’m going farther,” Virgil interrupted. 

As he continued, he could hear muffled grumbles coming from Princey. Seeing light coming through another vent, he shuffled towards it. He was about to open it when there was a knock nearby. 

“Oh fuck-” Virgil lowered his head and peered through the slits in the vent covering. 

He could see that there was a door nearby and that Remy opened it. 

“Oh,” Remy said. “Hello, Dr. Picani.” 

Virgil saw a pink-haired man grin. “Hi there! I know I don’t come by often but I was concerned about Patton. He hasn’t made an appointment for over three months and-”

“He’s doing fine so far.” 

The pink-haired man- Dr. Picani- smiled sheepishly. “That’s the thing. Since we haven’t had a session in a while, I was worried about his prescription. It should’ve ran out two months ago and-”

“Maybe you should talk to him. Come inside, please.” 

“That’s nice of you,” Dr. Picani said, stepping into the house. 

Remy closed the door, subtlely locking it. 

Virgil forced himself to stay in the vent.


End file.
